Crooked Kingdom (The Six of Crows Duology #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,88

the marketplace and shattered the building’s windows. Matthias wasn’t even sure he understood what had happened. Had Nina controlled those false Saints’ relics? Had it been something else altogether? And why had they been attacked?

Matthias thought they would emerge into an alley, but instead they descended a series of ancient-looking steps into a dank tunnel. The old canal , Matthias realized as they climbed aboard a boat that passed soundlessly through the dark. It had been paved over but not entirely filled in. They were traveling beneath the broad thoroughfare that fronted the embassy.

Only a few moments later, Zoya led them up a narrow metal ladder and into a bare room with a ceiling so low Matthias had to bend double.

Nina said something to Zoya in Ravkan and then translated Zoya’s reply for Matthias. “It’s a half room. When the embassy was built, they created a false floor four feet above the original floor. The way it’s set into the foundation, it’s almost impossible to know there’s another room beneath you.”

“It’s little more than a crawl space.”

“Yes, but Ketterdam’s buildings don’t have basements, so no one would ever think to search below.”

It seemed an extreme precaution in what was supposed to be a neutral city, but perhaps the Ravkans had been forced to take extreme measures to protect their citizens. Because of people like me. Matthias had been a hunter, a killer, and proud to do his job well.

A moment later, they came upon a group of people huddled together against what Matthias thought might be the eastern wall if he hadn’t gotten completely turned around.

“We’re under the embassy garden,” said Nina.

He nodded. This would be the safest place to keep a group of people if you didn’t want to risk voices rising through the embassy floor. There were about fifteen of them, all ages and colors. They seemed to have little in common beyond their wary expressions, but Matthias knew they must all be Grisha. They hadn’t needed Nina’s warning to seek sanctuary.

“So few?” Matthias said. Nina had estimated the number of Grisha in the city as closer to thirty.

“Maybe the others got out on their own or are just lying low.”

Or perhaps they’d already been captured. If Nina did not wish to speak the possibility, he wouldn’t either.

Zoya led them through an archway to an area where Matthias was relieved to be able to stand upright. Given the round shape of the room, he suspected they were beneath some kind of false cistern or maybe a folly in the garden. His relief dissolved when one of Zoya’s armed men produced a pair of shackles, and Zoya pointed directly at Matthias.

Immediately, Nina stepped in front of him, and she and Zoya began arguing in furious whispers.

Matthias knew exactly who he was dealing with. Zoya Nazyalensky was one of the most powerful witches in Ravka. She was a legendary Squaller, a soldier who had served first the Darkling, then the Sun Summoner, and who had ascended to power as a member of King Nikolai’s Grisha Triumvirate. Now that he’d experienced a taste of her abilities for himself, he wasn’t surprised at how quickly she’d risen.

The argument was entirely in Ravkan, and Matthias didn’t understand a word of it, but the scorn in Zoya’s voice was obvious, as were her jabbing gestures toward Matthias and the shackles. He was ready to growl that if the storm witch wanted him locked up, she could try doing it herself and see what happened, when Nina held up her hands.

“No more,” she said in Kerch. “Matthias remains free and we continue this conversation in a language we all understand. He has a right to know what’s going on.”

Zoya’s eyes narrowed. She looked from Matthias to Nina and then, in heavily accented Kerch, she said, “Nina Zenik, you are still a soldier of the Second Army, and I am still your commanding officer. You are directly disobeying orders.”

“Then you’ll just have to put me in chains too.”

“Don’t think I’m not considering it.”

“Nina!” The cry came from a redheaded girl who had appeared in the echoing room.

“Genya!” Nina whooped. But Matthias would have known this woman without any introduction. Her face was covered in scars, and she wore a red silk eye patch embroidered with a golden sunburst. Genya Safin—the renowned Tailor, Nina’s former instructor, and another member of the Triumvirate. As Matthias watched them embrace, he felt sick. He’d expected to meet a group of anonymous Grisha, people who had taken refuge in Ketterdam and